Of Dragons and Prophets
by The Baron
Summary: An Imperial Guardsman finds his new post on Morrowind more then he can handle. Mature content, be advised. Chapter 5 now up
1. Chapter 1

It was that weird dream again, flying across an unknown landscape as the world below raced below him. Images of strange animals and demons, a room of people just staring at him and that strange golden figure, a swirling vortex into nothing. Never speaking, that piercing gaze, that golden mask, that nameless terror-

"Hey, wake up! Wake up!"

Neros Orr woke up with a start, breathing heavily as if he had stayed under water too long and came up for a gasp of breath. Cold sweat rolled down his forehead in giant beads, his damp bed sheet now flung to the side as he scanned wildly from side to side to see if the golden-faced figure was still there. All he saw was his friend Adeptus Seritius standing over him, and Neros realized he was back in the barracks. Around him he saw other Imperial troopers moving about, some of them turning their attention towards Neros.

"Neros, you alright there buddy?" Adeptus placed a hand on Neros' shoulder, who could only respond by shaking his head yes. Both men were Imperials, a race of humans hailing from Cyrodill, the home region of the Tamrielic Empire and rulers of most of the world. Both were of medium build, although Neros was slight taller then Adeptus and had brown eyes instead of blue, and both are members of the Imperial Legions, the military force that exerted Emperor Uriel Septim VIII's will. Currently they were in the town of Gnisis as part of the Imperial Legion garrison stationed on the island of Vvardenfell, a district of the Imperial province of Morrowind.

"Must've had too much drink last night, that _matze_ stuff the locals brew has quite the kick."

"Well, get dressed, General Darius wants to see you at his office in fifteen minutes."

Neros swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, wiping his brow off with his bare forearm and slipping his undergarment on. His armor was simple to get on, the chain mail cuirass and greaves slipping on smoothly, and the twin pauldrons and gauntlets a quick tightening of the leather straps. His boots, at least half a size too small for him, took some struggle to get on, and pinched at his toes as picked up his spear and short sword. He went to stand up only to fall forward and barely catch himself on the bunk next to his, slowly pulling himself up and making sure no one else saw the spectacle. The task of suiting up had become so automatic to him, not even the after-effects of a heavy night of drinking could make a dent in his routine.

Through sheer exertion of will Neros forced himself into the mess hall in a very stumbling, unprofessional manner. He was glad to see the occupants here were few and far between, he being hardly in the mood to exchange pleasantries or explain the blood-shot eyes and alcoholic breath. He fell down on the nearest chair he could find with the resounding bang of metal on wood and clumsily grabbed at the half-full pitcher of water left on the table. He poured it into a nearby goblet until it was almost overflowing, caring not if it had been used before, and brought it to his open mouth as quickly as he could, a large excess spilling all over the front of his cuirass. He had hoped that the water would somehow lessen the effects of a really bad hangover, forgetting the past hundred times it had not, wishing now he had stopped the barmaid from pouring him another glass of _matze_ after the fifth time.

Realizing the other soldiers were starting to stare at him Neros forced himself back up, nearly tipping his chair over backwards and, taking a big breath, did his best impression of walking in a straight line back out into the main hall. It was a circular hall dug into the earth, various alcoves set aside for equipment storage and bunk beds, with hallways branching out to more storage rooms, the training room and the mess hall. In the very center was a wide staircase leading up to the first floor, which acted as a sort of lobby and meeting area. The flight of stairs up to the main floor was barely surmounted by the aid of the handrails, and Neros banged his head against the frame of the small front door before ducking down and pushing his way out.

The bright sun greeted Neros most harshly as his eyes slowly adjusted to the outdoors, a "scenic" view of the town of Gnisis spread before him. A mountain range surrounded the town on the north, east and south sides, the west falling off a cliff into the river below. There were openings in the north and south side of the mountain wall which allowed travel by foot into and out of Gnisis, Fort Darius (named after General Menelaeus Darius, commander of the regional Deathshead Legion) guarding the southern approach. Near the river was located the silt strider port, where the giant insects rested and dropped of their passengers from other inland towns. The majority of the village was made up of dozens of small mud huts, most occupied by miners of the local Kwama egg mine located within the mountain range. The center of town was dominated by the Temple, where the locals worshiped their gods and a makeshift bazaar of shops were set up ringing the outer wall of the holy sanctuary. It was also the resting place of some important holy relic the natives made pilgrimages to, some holy mask worn by the local deity-king. Neros never did read any of those books about the locals like he was supposed to, reasoning that if there was a clash of cultures good old Imperial steel could solve all problems.

Just then a passing group of natives, Dunmer or "Dark Elves", were giving him their typical glares of disapproval and hostility. Neros didn't need any book to tell him when a people were resentful of being ruled over by another, especially one as xenophobic as the Dark Elves. Purplish-grey skin and deep red eyes matched their grim personalities, bitter over their deity-king Vivec signing the peace treaty with Emperor Septim and handing over their lands to the Imperials for joint rule (as if the fools thought they could withstand the Imperial Legions Neros thought). The Dunmer were allowed to keep their traditions and customs, including the barbaric practice of slavery, while enforcing Imperial rule and allowing the exploitation of their land by the East Empire Company.

His boots slowly sinking into the mud, Neros began to walk to the only other building of importance in Gnisis, the Madach Tradehouse. Part of it functioned as the only bar and inn for the entire town, the place where Neros got plastered with a couple of buddies last night. The other part functioned as the office of General Darius, and it was by sheer luck in his drunken stupor that Neros avoided Darius coming back from his meeting in Ebonheart; his friends locked up in the Imperial fort were not as fortunate.

The inside of the tradehouse was similar to the barracks, with the exception of a second floor as the main bar area and kitchen. Neros took the stairs down to the lower level, was much more cavernous then the barracks and had many more side rooms, and stopped in front of the General's office. The quick knocking was responded with an "Enter!" from inside, and the heavy wood door swung open quickly as Neros marched to his fate.

Darius was busy scribbling a note at his desk on the one space not covered by books and scrolls laid across piles of paper maps. The messenger boy at his side, a little runt of a Dunmer, was quick to take the hastily-written orders and run out the door, trying not to look Neros in the face. Neros noticed the dim lighting in the tiny office/living quarters, a single candle on the desk complimented from the light reflecting off the general's golden Templar armor. Darius' black ponytail fell off his right shoulder, his face obscured by burly hands trying to rub a hard night out of his eyes before he looked up at Neros. "Trooper Neros Orr, I trust you were able to avoid any troubles while I was away?"

"Yes, sir," replied Neros, who couldn't tell if Darius really couldn't detect the signs saying otherwise, or simply chose to ignore them.

"Good, good. As you know there have been plans to help develop the West Gash economically," continued Darius, referring to the region where Gnisis and several other underdeveloped towns were located on the west coast of Morrowind. "These plans include building a port to connect Gnisis with the rest of the island by sea, instead of having to rely on caravans and silt striders. However the port will have to be built on the outskirts of town, and the only suitable location is currently occupied by the widow Vabdas. Widow Vabdas lives on a small plot of land outside of Gnisis, where she tends a small muck farm with her daughter and her late husband, an egg miner who died recently while in the mine. I'm sending you out today to serve her these eviction papers; she needs to be gone at the end of the week before the laborers arrive. Dismissed."

"That stupid _n'wah_, sending me out here to throw a little old lady out into the wilderness." Neros had spent the last ten minutes cursing Darius and the rains for making this day worst then it had to be. He knew this confrontation would get ugly, not only because it would just be another Imperial forcing his will on poor defenseless Dunmer, but the widow had been making a scene the other day complaining that her husband's death wasn't an accident, that it was the Deathshead Legion that had him killed. Neros could feel his headache grow worst as he came over the final rise to the old maid's small house.

It took a minute for the visual to register in Neros' brain: the Widow Vabdas laying face-down and half-naked in the mud; a male Dunmer standing over her, clad in chitin armor and wielding two short swords with his back to Neros; the door to her house broken in and the sounds of another woman's screams from inside. They could have been Ashlanders, Dunmer who lived like nomads in the vast wastes of Morrowind. They could've been simple bandits looking for easy money and free thrills. Hell, for all Neros cared they could've been Temple priests and Ordinators, scum such as them did not deserve to live. Drawing his Imperial broadsword and letting out a mighty cry, he charged towards the Dark Elf, turning around slowly to see his impending doom...


	2. Chapter 2

The Dunmer raider brought his short sword up to parry aside Neros' overhead swing and prepared to swing wide with his other blade. Neros blocked his attack with his Legionary shield, thanking the Nine Devine he had brought it along, and thrust his blade-point at the Dunmer. The Dark Elf, who Neros realized couldn't be more then in his teens, predicted and parried away the attack, setting up to swing wide with his right-hand blade. What he did not predict was Neros bashing into him with his shield, the rectangular curved metal sending the young warrior flying and landing on his back with a hard thud. Neros pounced on the fallen Dark Elf, stepping hard with his steel boot on the boy's chest and driving his blade into the exposed neck, mixing the creature's squeal with the gurgling of blood. The Imperial left the worm to wriggle around in agony and turned his attention to the front door.

A second Dunmer, wearing a leather tunic and a prominent tattoo on his face, stood with his mouth open in the doorway before turning around to rush inside. Neros charged forward in a rage, stomping past Vabdas' unmoving body and into the house, where a flying dagger missed his head by an inch. Neros stopped and raised his shield to deflect a second dagger, looking around the protective barrier to see the leathered man looking desperately for something else to throw at him. The enraged Imperial charged again, closing with his hapless opponent and driving his blade between the man's fifth and sixth rib up to the hilt. The bandit let go a scream of pain and the bag of loot he had been carrying, its contents of money and utensils spilling out across the floor as he fell to the ground on both knees. Neros was forced to put a boot to the creature and push him off of his blade, which was now dripping with red blood.

The third Dark Elf came running up from the basement to see what the commotion was about, only to see an Imperial soldier standing over the dead body of one of his comrades. He had been in such a hurry he forgot to tie his belt, and when he went to take a step his pants fell down to his ankles, causing him to trip and tumble back down the stairs. An otherwise comical scene under different circumstances, Neros chased after the clumsy scoundrel with a trail of blood following close behind. The villain was caught up in a pile of white linen that had been cast aside, and had cut his blade free of the cloth when Neros' sword cleaved the weapon, and the hand that held it, free from the rest of the body. The marauder clutched at the bloody stump, spreading his anguish and blood all over the bed sheets.

"Please...please, have mercy..." the Dunmer was able to say, between the throbs of pain that shot through his body. Neros' fierce, hard eyes met the pleading Dark Elf's for a moment before one final swing finished the creature off with a resounding Thwack.

Neros closed his eyes and stood there, breathing deeply, letting the rage within dissipate until he was his calm self again. Neros searched for and found a clean sheet under the pile of linen that served temporarily as a burial bed, and cleaned himself up. He would need an oil rag when he got back to the barracks to keep the blood on his sword from corroding it. His immediate concerned fulfilled, Neros looked around the room and examined the damage done by the burglars.

The thugs had literally torn the place apart looking for valuables: pillows cut open and their fluff spilled on the floor, books laid out to check for hidden compartments, cabinets and closets broken into with brute force. Anything the robbers didn't find valuable found it self broken into hundreds of pieces on the floor as Neros kicked aside broken pottery and glassware, checking an empty chest whose hinges had been bashed apart. The large bed stood beneath where the stairs came down from the first floor, a large gash diagonally across the mattress...

It was only then when he noticed the small figure huddle up against the bedpost in a fetal position, terror in her eyes as she stared back at Neros. Neros guessed she couldn't be more then twenty, maybe even younger. Her dark red hair flowed down past her shoulders, and from what he could tell the young girl was naked but for some torn bits of clothing.

Neros averted his eyes, and noticing a pile of clothing at his feet hastily grabbed a drab brown robe. Throwing on the bed, he kept his eyes looking away from her nude form, hastily saying "I'll be outside when you're ready."

The first floor was in similar shape as the basement, the vandals taking everything of value and breaking the rest. Outside the rain had stopped, although the overcast remained, as did the bodies of the armored Dunmer and the widow. He checked on Vabdas's body first, pulling it out of the mud onto a dry piece of land. Her body was pockmarked with several stab wounds made by a dagger, and her neck was heavily bruised, probably from being choked. She was bare from the waist down. Neros did the only decent thing he could, carrying her back into her house and covering her with a sheet next to the central fireplace.

Back outside he examined the carcass of the first warrior he struck down, whose hands were grasped around the hole in his neck. The _n'wah_ was in a full suit of light armor, made from the chitin of one of Morrowind's beasts. Neros removed the thing's face mask to be surprised by the face of a teenager, younger then the girl back in the house. A spiral tattoo covered the right side of his adolescent face, the same kind Ashlanders wear. _Damn sonofabitchs_.

The Ashlanders were nomads who wandered the ash wastelands at the base of Red Mountain, the central dominant landform on Morrowind. Unlike their civilized cousins, Ashlanders never fully gave in to Imperial rule, conducting hit-and-run raids against both the House Dunmer and Imperial settlers. Neros had never heard of them hitting this far into the West Gash region before though or this close to an Imperial garrison town.

Neros never heard the young woman approach, turning around to see her staring at the dead body. _No, not at it. More like through it_ he thought, her eyes unmoving, unflinching in their cold gaze of a..._thing_ that had just brought her life crashing down around her. She was completely wrapped up in the auburn robe, clutching on to it like a child to a safety blanket, her bare feet encased in the muddy ground.

"Come on; let's get you back to Gnisis." There was no sense in sticking around her anymore, especially if these Ashlanders had any friends who would come looking for them. The two companions walked in silence on their cold, muddy march back to civilization.


	3. Chapter 3

The mid-afternoon traffic at the Madach Tradehouse was close to none, its primary patrons already back to work in the egg mines. Neros enjoyed the peace of the empty room as he slowly sipped from his mug of water and rested his head on one arm. Darius had given him the rest of the day off; it gave him time to drop his armor with the Legion blacksmith (_it had a few dings from before today anyways_) and write out his full report of the incident.

Neros had included everything on the one-page account, with a few alterations. Technically Imperial law dictated that you order an offender to surrender before chopping his head off, but Legionaries tended to find good reasons to slash first and ask questions later, which gave them their somewhat shady reputation. Neros kept thinking back to the last Dunmer he killed, the wretch incapacitated and begging for his life on the basement floor of the Vabdas homestead. To be sure, the vandal's death had been quick thanks to Neros' skill, but had he done the right thing? _Animals deserve to be slaughtered like animals, don't they?_

Neros could hear someone coming up to the bar area, but with his back to the stairs he didn't bother to turn around. He was taken off-guard when General Darius pulled up a chair next to him, more so to see him out of uniform, and Neros went to stand up when the middle-aged veteran held his hand up. "You're off-duty, remember? Barkeep, bring a round of brandy over here."

The buxom barmaid was already walking over with the general's favorite, Cyrodiil brandy imported straight from the home province. The General poured himself a hearty mug and downed it all in one sitting; Neros never thought Darius to be a drinking man.

"How are you doing, soldier?"

"Fine, sir," Neros replied, not telling the truth but not outright lying. His thoughts stilled turned to his decisions earlier today and what he could have done different. "I'm more concerned about how she is doing."

"Considering what has happened to her and her family recently, it's understandable." The young girl Neros had saved was Widow Vabdas' youngest daughter, Alexia Vabdas. She was occupying a room in the Tradehouse for the moment and hadn't come out since she arrived this morning. "Right now we're trying to decide what to do with her. We haven't found any other relatives of the Vabdas, and her house is going to be demolished soon. She's not of legal age to be drafted into the Legions, not that we need any more Darkies, and the local Temple has offered to take her in, train her to be a monk or something. It's either that or the egg mines, and that's for the East Empire Company to decide."

Darius poured himself another mug, drinking much more slowly now and emptying only a half of the glass. "My scouts report there were tracks leading from the Vabdas homestead heading north into the wilderness. Some of the local hunters report seeing signs of major Ashlander encampments left behind, and we think one of their tribes is now occupying the road between here and Ald Velothi. I'm sending Shagra's company out tomorrow at first light to drive them off." Neros winced at these words; he was part of Shagra gro-Brawla's company, one out of ten stationed at Gnisis, and the only one that didn't have half its number out on patrol or escort duty.

Darius now looked straight into Neros' eyes, who felt a little uncomfortable being starred down by his commanding officer. "No one will hold it against you if you don't want to go with the rest of your company. I could have one of the healers declare you unfit due to illness, something that can-"

This time Neros held up his hand to stop Darius, a bold act considering he was his superior officer. "No, that will not be necessary, sir. This has not been the first time I've killed someone. I will be more then happy to accompany the rest of my company for the mission."

"If you say so, Neros," replied Darius. The General stood up, saluted back to the now-standing Neros, and headed for the front door. "Oh, by the way," he said, turning back around to Neros. "One of the maids said Alexia wanted to see you. She's downstairs, third room on the right."

It was dark in the tiny closet that tried to pass itself off as an inn room, and that was the way Alexia wanted it. She lay across her bed in a huddled position, wrapped up in the odd-smelling blanket and watching smoke drift away from the extinguished candle. Her thoughts seemed to have drifted away as well, as she had trouble even remembering who she was as well as when and where she was, and her mind a complete blank except for two memories.

The first one, try as she might, could not be blocked out: the image of her mother dragged kicking and screaming outside, her house desecrated and ransacked, those strong arms that held her down and wouldn't let go… She felt sick inside just remembering the few events she could, and more then once was a maid called in to clean up the mess she had make.

The second one, however, seemed to counteract the first and gave her a warmer, safer feeling inside. A man clad in simmering silver, cutting down the demons in a righteous fury, shielding her from the darkness. She knew that the man that saved her was an Imperial, a race she had been taught to look down on since birth; crude, immoral, worshipers of false gods, arrogant thieves of civilization. And worst, that he should be a member of the Imperial Legions, an occupying force in her land of such evil as to rival Dagoth Ur himself. Before today she thought she had more to fear from them then from a fellow Dunmer.

She was caught up in this complex love-hate feeling when she heard the light rasping at the door, and the slow creaking sound of the handle being turned. A beam of light pierced the room through the slowly opening door crack, although with her back turned towards it she could not see who it was. _Probably that stupid maid again, the n'wah_. She kept in her huddled position, not wanting to speak to anyone but the one who saved her.

Neros figured the girl was asleep, and didn't want to wake her after her ordeal today. If it was something important she could always find him later. Ever so slowly he shut the door again, and made his way back to the barracks.


	4. Chapter 4

The glint of four and sixty spears in the evening sun was like a great beacon that dared someone to attack the company of Imperial Legionaries marching through the backcountry of the West Gash region. Roads were not well marked, and the many valleys that twisted through the area could leave a wayward traveler dazed and isolated, perfect for the common bandits that made these geographical features their sanctuary. The company had been marching all day, following a native scout who knew the location of the Ashlander camp they were hunting. Or so he said.

"Damn Darkie probably just wanted the fifty septims offered for information, leading us on a wild goose chase," remarked Adeptus, who spat out some dust and other unpleasantries. Neros merely acknowledge with a nod of his head, his mind off in the clouds above and back in Gnisis.

He was still thinking about Alexia, wondering how her recovery was going, what her future held. He wasn't quite sure why he was having these feelings though; he never gave any Dunmer more then a passing through before, mostly one of contempt to boot. Perhaps he was just sympathizing with the victim of a horrid crime, and would feel the same about even a Khajiit or Argonian female (though he knew of men who had a thing for the feel of fur or, suppressing the urge to gag, scales). He brushed it off as the company was brought to a halt with an order from the rough voice of Shagra gro-Brawla.

This was soon followed by a "You no-good thieving son of an _s'wit_!" and the sound of a very pissed-off Orc smacking a Dunmer across the head, a very strong hit for the sound to reach the back of the column where Neros and Adeptus stood. More voices could be heard from up front, and eventually news reached the back of the column: apparently, the Dunmer scout said the camp was up ahead, but wanted a further thirty-five septims to lead them to it because of the added risk. Shagra did not take kindly to this kind of extortion, and further threatened the Dunmer to skin him alive and leave him for the nix hounds to feast if he didn't continue. The scout, with a bruised cheek and pride, promised to lead them ahead, but offered to continue on to make sure the path was clear and come back for them.

Considering they were still in potential hostile territory, Shagra kept the company in column formation, although they couldn't have spread out if they had wanted. They were stopped in a deep ravine that ran east-west, wedged between two steep rocky cliff faces with barely enough room for five men to stand abreast and upright. Neros was contemplating on this fact, and about to say something to Adeptus when the blast of many native horns sounded the start of the ambush.

Like the instincts of a wild animal to danger, the company formed into a defensive formation, spears pointed out and shields interlocked around and above them as the Ashlanders began pelting them with spears, arrows and rocks from above. There were many dozens of them lining either side of the edges, raining insults and missiles on the hapless Imperials below. The armored shell held up against most of the attacks, until the Ashlanders began rolling boulders down upon it. Several Legionaries would be crushed by the rocks, and the gap in the shield left several more to die from an arrow or spear shot.

"Company, move!" Shagra's commanding voice was obeyed down to the subconscious level, and the Legionaries began moving back out the way they came towards the east. This meant that Adeptus and Neros would be at the very front of the column and receive the brunt of the attack. There was no time to pick up their fallen comrades, even if it meant leaving them and their equipment for the Ashlanders, and the company healer did his best to heal the wounded enough to keep them moving.

The Ashlanders began assembling at the mouth of the ravine and advanced cautiously, pelting the Imperials with missiles as they went. Neros was surprised they were not using magic in their attacks as his shield deflected shot after shot. He could see through a gap in the shield wall the mass of angry Dunmer as he approached them, his spear extended out as far as he could. Legionaries behind him stuck their spears out either between the front five or over them to deflect missiles, presenting the fearsome shield wall of the Imperial Legion that had defeated many foes before.

The Ashlanders at the mouth of the ravine began to back away in disorder when the command to charge rang out, and the column of angry Legionaries slammed into the mob of Ashlanders. Neros could feel his steel spear stick into something soft, and then the sensation of many hands trying to pull it away. He just kept pushing forward, supported by the weight of the men behind him and using his shield to bash into the enemy. The Ashlanders, the few who were armored clad only in boiled leather or bits of chintin armor, melted away before the might of cold steal and plate armor, and the company broke out of the ravine, scattering the Ashlanders that had tried to contain them.

The Imperials spread out into battle formation, and turned to face their foe still gathered along the ravine edges when the battle abruptly ended, the Ashlanders firing a few more shots of rage before melting away into the shadows of the setting sun. Shagra ordered the company to move towards a bit of high ground overlooking much of the landscape before allowing the men to rest, setting a watch over the raised hilltop.

It was the second time that week that Neros had experienced that rush of fear- and battle-induced adrenaline, sitting on a small fallen log and panting heavily. This time was far more exhausting then the fight yesterday and Neros could see the rest of the men were laid about in exhaustion. The company healer, an Imperial Cult priest, had done what he could for the wounded and came over towards where Neros sat. "How are you feeling, my son?"

Neros never knew the man's name, usually skipping the services unless it was required, but felt comforted by the holy man's presence. He wore simple chain mail underneath his brown habit, and a mace hanging from his side gave testament to his oath to do no harm unless in self-defense. "Just tired, that's all father."

"I have spoken to Shagra about it, but apparently the Dunmer had cast spells to drain us of endurance and weaken our muscles. Much of the company was affected, but the grace of the Nine Devine has given us a victory. Let me release you of your burden." The priest spoke his holy words and tiny lights from his outstretched palm flowed into Neros. Neros did not feel as drained as he did before, but the tired feeling of being in a battle still lingered. The priest put a reassuring hand on Neros' shoulder and began moving among the worn out troopers.

Neros looked around to see where Adeptus was when Shagra ordered them to attention, at least for those who could stand. "It is getting close to dark and we will not make it back to Gnisis before nightfall. Therefore, we shall make for the town of Ald Velothi just north of here rather then risk a night ambush. Be prepared to leave in five minutes."

Neros was concerned now, as he could not see his friend anywhere and had not seen him join the perimeter guards either. He began asking around if anyone else had seen him, but no one could remember. Neros was so caught up in the battle the last he remembered seeing Adeptus was before the ambush. His concern growing into worry, Neros approached Shagra, who was talking with the priest again. "Sir, request permission to return to the battlefield."

"What for, trooper?" Shagra raised his eyebrow at Neros; the Orc was against stripping battlefield dead of their valuables, and always thought the man had kept bad company.

"I believe one of our soldiers is still out there and in need of aid, sir." The old Orc could see that Neros was telling the truth, and returned his pleading look with one of sorrow.

"We can't risk sending people out right now, Neros. It's nearly dark, and those sonsofbitches would like nothing more then to gang up and kill a few more Imperials. Just hope that your friend has a strong will and lots of luck, Neros." Shagra walked past Neros to get the men ready to march, the wounded being loaded upon makeshift stretchers. The holy man was about to say some words of comfort when Neros turned his back on him to join the company. _He's still alive, and I'll find him when I get the chance later…_

Watching the young man walk away from him, the priest quietly said a prayer for the soul of his friend and the other soldiers who died that day….


	5. Chapter 5

To say that the huddled mass of rickety huts and decomposing piers that were collectively called Ald Velothi was a "fishing village" would stretch the imagination. One would suspect that the people of Ald Velothi would be too poor to afford a boat, much less a fishing rod if they did not see one for themselves among the piles of muck. The only building of any importance was a small outpost of House Redoran, one of the Great Dunmer Houses. Of the five Great Houses in Morrowind, only three had holdings on the island: Redoran, Televani, and Hllalu, each one jealously guarding their territory from the other. The whole of the West Gash region fell under the jurisdiction of House Redoran, which helped the Imperial Legions in policing and administering the area.

Neros and the rest of the company were bivouacked around the small outpost, which sat on a hill outside the village to the southeast. Even if there was room to house them all in Ald Velothi, the Dark Elves wanted nothing to do with Imperials and the soldiers were too tired to force the issue. Campfires were lit, tents pitched and sentries set as Neros laid his bedroll on the cold ground and curled up on it, not bothering to take off his armor as he pulled the sheets over himself. The tent belonged Braga na-Graba, a smelly oaf of an Orc who had lost his former tent mate in the battle. Neros' tent was still out in the wilderness somewhere, strapped to the body of his dead friend…

_No, not dead, just missing._ Neros used to be good at deluding himself, whenever times were hard and his luck was down, but he was getting sloppy nowadays. Even if Adeptus wasn't dead, he would succumb to his wounds during the night. Unless, of course, if the foul Ashlanders took him prisoner, and Neros wasn't about to have those kinds of thoughts anytime soon.

The sound of the tent flap rustling and a swift kick to his side saw Neros looking up into the face of Shagra gro-Brawla, the light from his lantern shining intensely into the Imperial's face. "On you're feet Neros; you're needed at the officer's meeting."

"Wha? But I'm no-"

"-Wolfson is dead, succumbed to his wounds. The priest thinks it was poison. You're the new second in command of the company. You can move your stuff to his tent when they remove the body. Be at the outpost in five minutes." As suddenly as he appeared, Shagra was gone, the tent flap swaying gently from his passage and Braga having slept through the whole affair.

It took a few moments for the news to slowly creep in through his weary head, his new promotion being announced in a rather sudden fashion. Though he would later realize that he was getting was a coin or two more to his pay and added responsibility, at that point all it meant was him getting out of bed, something he thought detrimental to his mental and physical health. The debate was over rather quickly once the big sleeping Orc across from him began snoring, and Neros was suddenly glad he hadn't taken off his uniform.

The outpost was a squat solitary building with a single tall watchtower swooping above it, built in the Redoran fashion with organic curves and nonlinear shapes, a curious feature of Dunmer culture using natural organic materials. He was pointed towards one of the entrances by a Redoran guard in a full suit of Bonemold armor, another peculiar Dunmer invention using animals shells molded into shape through a process that left it a dirty-yellow color but surprisingly resilient. Stepping inside he found the outpost built much like the Gnisis barracks, a large wide room dominated by a central staircase leading down to the basement where the meeting was beginning.

The gathered officers were all standing about or leaning on the wall, as apparently because of their small size Redoran garrison had no use for too many chairs or large tables. Shagra was there, as was the priest, the company sergeant, and a few other familiar faces. There were also some Dunmer attending, mostly nondescript except for an unusually large soldier in Bonemold armor and a slender, almost delicate-looking female whose long flowing robes matched her hair. Her facial features were much smoother and of a lighter complexion then other Dunmer, perhaps the result of a mixed heritage. It wasn't uncommon to have half-breeds between certain races, although they went to great lengths to hide it, especially for a proud race like the Dunmer. For some reason she reminded him of Alexia, though her hair was cut much shorter, and those confused emotions of his once again bubbled up to the surface.

"Well, now that you've decided to grace us with your presence Neros, we can begin." The gruff company commander called his Imperials to attention while the Dunmer continued to stand about in an uncaring, nonchalant way. "I've called this meeting because of some new information our friends here have to share with us, and what we plan to do to act upon it. I'll let you go first, Captain…"

"Therena," said the young woman, stepping forward into the gathered circle of officers. Some of the Imperial officers, including Neros, were visibly taken back by the sight of what looked like a frail noblewoman being in command of an army garrison. A slight smirk showed on her face as she watched their reactions before continuing on.

"A few hours ago our scouts informed us of the battle that took place between your company and the Ashlanders and its 'outcome'." Particular emphasis had been placed on that last word; all the assembled Dunmer were either smiling behind helms or on the inside at the thought of the brutish occupiers being bested by savages. "They reported that, after the Imperials left the Ashlanders went through the fallen for supplies and took some of the wounded with them back to their camp. According to their information they've set up near an old abandoned Dwemer settlement not far from our position here."

The large Dunmer came forward with a map and spread it out on a nearby table, Ald Velothi's position and that of the suspected Ashlander camp clearly marked. "My scouts say they hadn't set up their yurts, which means that they don't plan on staying there too long. If you left now my men could lead your company to them within the next hour or two."

Several snorts of derision emanated from the Imperial officers, which were quickly ceased by a glare from Shagra before turning it on the Dunmer. "No offense, Captain Therena, but I think we would do better without any more 'help' from the locals."

"In that case, feel free to grope around in the dark for the whole night to find the Ashlanders have moved on and left your friends lying in the dirt with their throats slit," she replied, glaring right back at him.

The two sides had fixed stares at each other for what seemed like an age before Neros quickly jumped in to diffuse the situation. "Sir, perhaps it would be best to send a small team to attempt a rescue instead of the whole company? We would be less likely to be noticed and, if it were a trap," he said, giving the Dunmer captain a sidelong glance, "we wouldn't be putting the whole company in danger."

Shagra stared back at Neros for a moment before an unusually large grin formed on his face, replying "Brilliant idea, Neros." He gave out a hearty laugh and slapped him on the shoulder, the smack of Orcish flesh on cold steel ringing out like bells. "So brilliant, I can't think of anyone better but for you to lead it."

"Me? But sir-"

"You're perfect for the job, son. Wouldn't want someone else to steal your glory, eh? I'll expect your team will be ready to leave within the half hour, along with your scouts, Captain," turning towards Therena before looking back at Neros. "You'll have until mid-morning before the company heads back to Gnisis, if you're not with us by then we'll assume you're dead or, the Nine Divines forbid, captured. This meeting is adjourned."

As the officers began to disperse, Neros was bombarded by emotions like a love-struck schoolboy. He wanted desperately to find out what had happened to Adeptus, but the thought of traveling practically alone in hostile territory, guided by a people who were likely to abandon him to the enemy at the first sign of opportunity, didn't sit well in his stomach. Catching sight of Shagra walking up the central staircase by himself, Neros quickly strode to his side. "Sir, I-"

"If it's about the mission, it's no use arguing against going," he replied, cutting Neros off for the third time that night.

"It's not that sure, it's about my new commission. I was wonder, sir, why you chose me as your new second. There are plenty of other troopers who would be more willing to take the job, including the company sergeant who was supposed to be next in line."

Shagra stopped very suddenly about midway up the stairs, causing Neros to almost trip in an attempt to stop at the same time. "You're not telling me how to do my job, are you Neros?" Neros was quick to reply that was a negatory, seeing the look of unpleasantness in the bulky Orc's eyes. "Good, because I don't like being second-guessed by my officers. I chose you because I can see potential in you, Neros. You're destined for big things, and I'll be damned if I keep you from your destiny. That and the General put in a good word for you. Always remember Neros," he said, pulling the man closer to his face, "you can never have too much brown on your nose." With an uncustomary wink he turned about and left his second-in-command standing on the flight of stairs with a pleasant smile on his face.


End file.
